


Dance With Me

by ProbablyNotASquirrel



Series: Post-Sevastopol [2]
Category: Alien: Isolation (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Canon, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyNotASquirrel/pseuds/ProbablyNotASquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samuels gives Ripley a gift and it leads to the two of them dancing. Takes place after A Familiar Face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so this is incredibly cliched and fluffy. I would apologize but I am not sorry.
> 
> On a side note, I was referring to the song Dream A Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong as the slow song that first plays. Here's the link https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jC4cXzvXSq4 credit to the user who uploaded it, it isn't mine. You're welcome to imagine whatever song you please in its place, I'm just a sucker for that one because it's so romantic. I also like the contrast of that old song with the space/future setting.
> 
> Alright I'm done rambling, thank you for reading!

"Fuck me," Ripley sighed as she came in the door, heading straight for the couch. She dropped onto it and kicked off her boots.

Samuels was sitting at the desk, writing something. He glanced up from his work, looking amused. "Rough day?"

"Yeah, just a bunch of company bullshit,” she rubbed her hands over her face. She liked her new job but some days it could be a huge pain in the ass.

He smirked at her and twisted in his chair to face her completely. “Care to elaborate?”

“My job should be simple, forget the bullshit long-ass title the company gives it, they bring me stuff to fix and I fix it. That’s why I love fixing things, something doesn’t work, you figure out why, make the necessary changes, and then it usually works. Now sometimes you have to get creative in how you fix it but the overall concept is simple.” Ripley paused and suddenly looked self-conscious, “I’m sorry I’m rambling now.”

Samuels was smiling. “No please continue, I find it both enlightening and entertaining.”

She laughed but it was a little too high-pitched to sound joyful, “Today they bring me this thing, I forget what they called the fucking thing, they act like it’s all fancy and special because it’s expensive, but it’s just a water purification device. I won’t go into the technical aspects of it, the point is I figured out why it wasn’t working and I knew that I could fix it.” She drew in a deep breath. “I sent them my plan for fixing it because they have to approve repair plans on devices that are above a certain value.” Her face contorted in disgust. “They fucking deny my proposal, saying it isn’t up to company standards- which would be all fine and dandy if they would grant me the funds needed to get company approved parts. They want platinum grade repairs on a shoe-string budget and I can’t make it happen.” She slumped further into the couch, “So something that should be simple and take less than 15 minutes to repair, becomes nearly impossible.”

Samuels waited until he was sure she had finished. “That does sound incredibly frustrating. I am sorry you have to deal with that.”

Ripley seemed to relax more and waved her hand dismissively, “It’s alright, I just needed to vent.” Her attention turned to a package on the coffee table. It was wrapped in light yellow paper and topped with a delicate white bow. "Samuels what's this?"

"It's a present." He replied simply.

"Yes Samuels I can see that,” she laughed a little, “but what's it doing here?"

"It's for you."

Ripley began inspecting the package, looking for a tag. She couldn't think of anyone who would give her a gift, Samuels was the only one she was close to. Ripley was polite to people she **had** to interact with, but that was the extent of it. She usually glared at anyone who looked like they might try to approach her. "Who in the hell is it from?"

Samuels looked sheepish, "Me."

Surprise showed on Ripley's face. "Oh. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," he got up from the desk and went to stand next to her. "I just happened to come across this and I thought you might enjoy it."

Ripley undid the bow and pulled the wrapping off, revealing a plain cardboard box. She opened it and inside was an old radio. When she picked it up to inspect it she saw several cassettes in the bottom of the box.

"Now it doesn't work, but I figured you would be able to repair it. I remembered you saying something about missing your old radio."

"Thank you." Ripley set the radio down. _I made that comment weeks ago and in passing, synthetic memory must be one hell of a thing._ "It's wonderful," she pulled him into a hug.

Samuels smiled into her shoulder, "I am very glad you like it." The embrace lasted a little longer than was necessary before they released each other. Then they settled in for the evening, Samuels went back to working on his reports and Ripley started working on the radio.

* * *

 

After finishing his report, Samuels looked up from his work and over at her. She was completely engrossed in her efforts. Tools and parts were scattered across the coffee table and she sat hunched over everything, poking and prodding at different things. Being so focused, she didn't notice that Samuels was watching her. The scene brought a smile to his face.

"Aha," Ripley said and Samuels averted his eyes quickly but Ripley still hadn't looked away from her work. She hadn't noticed his sudden shift in attention. "The internal parts are in surprisingly good shape. Some of the connections in the wiring are bad, I'm pretty sure if I replace them it will work just fine."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Samuels offered.

"No it should just take a few minutes," she looked up at him and smiled, but it fell quickly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes of course I am, why do you ask?" He shifted in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable.

Ripley gave Samuels a disbelieving look, "You had an odd expression on your face."

"No I promise I'm fine," he pushed himself up from the desk a little too abruptly. "I'm going to wash up and change," he said as he made his way to the bathroom.

Ripley hummed in acknowledgement and watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, then returned her attention to the radio. She spent the next several minutes replacing all of the worn out connections. When she finished with that, she put the radio pieces back together and plugged it in. "Alright you little shit, work," she pressed the on button and it lit up in response. Grinning, Ripley fished a random cassette out of the box and popped it in. After a moment, music started playing. The music was old, slow, and unfamiliar, with trumpets and a crooning couple. It wasn't what she would normally listen too, yet it was still comforting. She swayed a little to the music, still seated on the couch.

"Dance with me," Samuels stood several feet away from the bathroom door. Ripley hadn't heard him come out and she wasn't sure how long he had been standing there. He had changed out of his company issued coveralls into an olive green tee shirt and jeans. His feet were bare and his hair was damp but neatly combed.

Ripley tried not to notice the way his shirt seemed to fit so well. She steeled herself and put on a smirk, "Your presentation style is lacking."

Samuels smiled and approached her, his walk confident. He stopped just short of her, "May I have this dance, Amanda?" He bowed slightly and extended his right hand. He looked hopefully up at her, holding his pose.

Ripley's heart ached at the sight and she had trouble finding her words, "I can't dance."

Samuels didn't move, "But I can. I'll lead and you'll be just fine."

"Alright you smooth bastard," she took his hand and stood up.

Samuels looked very smug as he pulled her close to him. He laid his left hand on her waist towards the small of her back and kept his right hand interlocked with her left. "Lay your other hand on my upper arm." Ripley did as he instructed. "Now just follow as I do, step with me." Samuels started taking simple but precise steps to the music. Ripley watched their feet, unsure of her own movements. He watched her, the way her brows knitted together and the way her lips wore a slight frown. He found her intense concentration to be absolutely endearing, but he wanted her to actually have fun while they danced. "Amanda."

"Hm?" She didn't look away from their feet.

"You're doing just fine, try to not look at your feet," Samuels urged gently.

"I know I'll end up on my ass if I do that," she laughed, still looking at her feet.

Samuels chuckled, "Just give it a shot."

Ripley finally relented and looked up at Samuels. His gaze was warm and he wore a small smile on his face. She was then hyper aware of how close they were. He smelled of the soap they kept in the shower and something else that she couldn't identify. The second smell was unfamiliar, but light and pleasant. Then a thought struck her. "Samuels, are you wearing cologne?"

Red blossomed on his cheeks and he avoided her gaze, "I-uh. Yes."

Even though she loved seeing Samuels blush, Ripley felt a little guilty, she hadn't meant to embarrass him. She gave him a reassuring smile, "It smells nice, I like it."

He seemed to relax and looked back to her, "Thank you." A brief silence passed between them before Samuels pulled her in, flush against him before guiding her back out into a spin, then back to their original position.

Ripley laughed, "How often do you practice this?"

"Never actually. I've only studied it." Ripley gave him a questioning glance, "You've studied dancing?" "I looked up videos and instructional guides. Synthetics are capable of learning that way, it's nearly as effective as physically performing the task. This is the first time I've actually put the knowledge to use."

Ripley nodded in understanding, "So how long have you been waiting to use your hard earned knowledge?"

Samuels made a small choked noise before clearing his throat, he was blushing again. "About ten minutes."

The admission struck Ripley in the chest, had he done this for her? No one had ever done anything this sweet for her. "Did you learn just for me?" Her voice came out smaller than she had intended.

"Well partially, I have to admit that it was also due to my own selfish desire. When I heard the music, I wanted to dance with you." He smiled and she smiled back, but then he looked unsure of himself. "Does that upset you?"

"No not at all." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Why in the hell would I be upset about a dashing suitor wanting to dance with me?" Ripley added playfully and his smile returned. They continued dancing with the music, their gazes locked. It felt oddly intimate to hold eye contact for so long, but neither of them tried to look away.

"Amanda I-" Samuels began, but was cut short. Ripley had lost all focus on dancing and accidentally stepped on his foot, pinning it. His momentum was still going in the direction of the step so they both went sprawling on the floor. Samuels managed to hold onto Ripley and as his shoulder hit the floor, he rolled onto his back in order to shield Ripley from the brunt of the fall.

At the end of it all, Samuels was flat on his back with Ripley awkwardly sprawled on top of him, their legs were still tangled from the fall. There was one moment of mortified silence before they both burst into laughter. Samuels lifted his head to look at Ripley, "Are you alright?"

She lifted her head off of his chest and saw that he looked worried. "I'm fine, I should be asking you that. I'm the one who stamped on your foot then nearly crushed you to death."

He laughed, "You didn't even come close to crushing me." He loosened his hold on her but didn't remove his arms from around her.

"Seriously though, is your foot okay?" Ripley was genuinely concerned.

"Yes it's fine." She glared at him so he relented, "It's just a little sore, but there isn't any major damage."

"What about the fall, did that hurt you?" She pressed.

"No I'm fine," he squeezed her gently on the last word to emphasize it.

"I am sorry I caused all of that, but I did warn you," Ripley's smile was bright.

"Ah but you were incorrect," Samuels wore a crooked smile.

"The hell I was! I told you I would fall!" She insisted.

"If I recall correctly, you said that you would end up on your ass and may I point out that you are in fact not on your ass, nor have you been at any point of this venture." Ripley did not look amused, but Samuels continued, "I apologize for the crass vocabulary, but I was merely repeating your words." It was very obvious that he was trying very hard not to laugh.

That last bit caused Ripley to playfully smack him on the chest. "You're a smug bastard." There wasn't any malice behind her words.

Samuels smirked, "Thank you for that incredibly thorough assessment. Remind me to have you proofread my reports from now on."

“Will you at least agree that this was a horrible failure and we should never try it again?”

“It was a spectacular failure, but that is precisely why we should do it again.”

Ripley dropped her head to his chest feigning exasperation and sighed dramatically, this earned a chuckle out of Samuels. She then looked up at him. “Where’s the logic in that statement?”

“You need more practice,” he smiled brilliantly and it was infectious. The song ended and a more lively tune started playing. Neither one of them had made any attempt to get up. "Shall we try again?"

Ripley didn't want to give Samuels a reason to lose that amazing smile. "Alright," she got up from him and then helped him up. He tried to resume the same dancing position from earlier but Ripley stopped him. "Let's do something a little easier."

"What do you propose?"

Instead of responding, Ripley linked her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Samuels hesitated a moment before placing his hands on her hips, she hummed in approval. They began to sway back and forth slowly, despite the the faster pace of the music.

Samuels have Ripley a look of confusion. "We aren't in time with the music."

She gave a light laugh, "Yes I know, Samuels." Her smile was bright. Their faces were just a few inches apart, but neither of them seemed bothered by the close proximity.

"I don't know if this really counts as dancing," he expression softened, "but I am enjoying this."

The way he was looking at her caused a strange sensation in her stomach. _I need to fucking get ahold of myself._ Her voice came out softer that she meant it to, "So am I."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for reading! :) If you like the Ripley/Samuels pairing, you should check out Rosy-Station at http://rosy-station.tumblr.com/ she has AWESOME Alien: Isolation art, she also takes requests :). Also, come say hi to me on Tumblr at http://probablynotasquirrel.tumblr.com/ I would love to hear from all of you! :)


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